


A Shack in the Woods

by Histoireettralala (UselessGoats), JoachimNapoleon (UselessGoats), UselessGoats



Category: Alternate Universe - Fandom, Modern AU - Fandom, Napoleonic Era RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Gen, Humor, Trifecta AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24883120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UselessGoats/pseuds/Histoireettralala, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UselessGoats/pseuds/JoachimNapoleon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UselessGoats/pseuds/UselessGoats
Summary: Murat, Lannes, and Ney venture into the forest to unravel the mystery of a strange shack Davout recently discovered (and ran away from). But things soon take an unpleasant turn; someone is clearly bent on keeping the Trifecta away from the shack at all costs. (Inspired by the Blair Witch Project.)
Relationships: Caroline Bonaparte/Joachim Murat
Comments: 10
Kudos: 16





	1. A Terrible Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline Murat is extremely anxious as her husband prepares to set out into the woods with Ney and Lannes.

“This is a terrible idea,” says Ney.

He knows, even as the words escape his lips, that they’re going to fall on deaf ears. Nevertheless, as the self-appointed Responsible Adult of the group, he feels morally obligated to make one final protest against this latest mad enterprise devised by Lannes and Murat.

“Actually,” Lannes retorts, “this is one of the best ideas we’ve ever had.”

 _Not a high bar to leap_ , Ney thinks, but bites his tongue. He has made his obligatory protest; now nobody can blame him when everything goes to hell later on. _Which it almost certainly will_.

He, Lannes, and Murat are about to set out into a nearby forest, in search of some bizarre little shack recently stumbled upon by Davout during one of his extended hikes. Davout had uploaded a mysterious, heavily-edited video of this odd discovery on social media; the views had quickly blown up. Whatever he had seen inside the run-down shack had scared the living hell out of a man Ney had always known to be utterly fearless; the final moments of the video involved Davout abruptly fleeing the building and running through the woods like a madman. Ever since, Davout had adamantly refused to talk about the affair in any but the vaguest details, no matter how hard anyone pressed him or (as Masséna quickly discovered) no matter how much he was bribed.

For Murat and Lannes, the video had become an obsession. What _had_ Davout seen out there? What could _possibly_ rattle such a brave man? They desperately needed to know. 

The two resolved to go into the woods for themselves. They would find the abandoned shack–filming the whole adventure in the process–and put an end to the mystery once and for all.

Ney had grudgingly agreed to go with them, more to keep them from getting hopelessly lost or starving to death than anything. Murat’s inability to read a map was legendary, and Lannes had once gotten lost on a beginner-level hiking trail thanks to his habit of wandering away from the designated path.

…Of course, there was also the… _insistence_ of Napoleon and Caroline, neither of whom was particularly pleased with this venture.

“So you’ll be accompanying Lannes and Murat on this imbecilic excursion, yes?” Napoleon had said to Ney, with his severest “ _you sure as hell_ _ **will**_ ” look. 

“I uh… well I wasn’t _planning_ to–” Ney had begun, but Caroline’s face had darkened so suddenly and ominously that the words caught in his throat. “But uh, yeah, um, yeah of course I’m going with them,” he finished quickly.

“Good,” Napoleon said. “Somebody has to look after those two fools. I expect you to bring them home breathing and intact.” With that he walked away; Caroline followed, but not before shooting Ney one final sharp glance.

 _What have I gotten myself into this this time?_ he wonders as he watches Lannes busily packing up camera equipment and back-up batteries. 

Meanwhile, Caroline’s voice carries across the room as she makes certain that her husband is adequately prepared. Did he pack extra clothes? At least five pairs of socks and underwear just in case? Extra boots? Does he have his compass? His flashlight and extra batteries? His first-aid kit with plenty of bandaids? A warm blanket? Sunscreen? Did he pack enough food? Water? Camping utensils? A firestarter? A poncho? Bear-spray?

“Yes dear,” Murat answers patiently after each query. What was she so worried about, anyway? They were only going to be gone for a few days at most.

But Caroline continues relentlessly. Joachim mustn’t drink any creek water (at least not before boiling it), or eat any wild berries or mushrooms he finds unless he is _absolutely, positively certain_ they are not poisonous, or try to befriend any wildlife he comes across like he did last time he was out in the woods, or–

“Sweetheart, we’ll be fine,” Murat purrs comfortingly. “You worry too much. Between the three of us and the map Davout drew for us, we should have an easy time getting to the shack and back.”

“But how do you know the map is even reliable? Davout didn’t even want to draw it! He told you and Lannes that the best thing to do would be to leave the place in peace.”

“Well I doubt he’d draw something to intentionally get us lost,” Murat says, laughing. “I know Davout can be a bit cold at times but he’s not _that_ mean. Well, not usually.”

Caroline sighs. “Just be careful. And text me regularly for as long as you have service.”

“I will. I love you my dear.”

“I love you too.” 

They share a long kiss, then Murat follows Lannes out to the car.

Caroline turns to Ney, and he can’t help but feel as if the room temperature has instantly dropped ten degrees.

“Bring Joachim back safe and sound, Michel,” Caroline says. There’s no need for an _or else_ ; it is implied in her tone.

“I’ll do my best, Madame, you have my word,” Ney replies. With a slight bow of his head, he hurriedly turns and follows his friends outside. 

The prospect of Caroline’s vengeance if he fails to follow through on this promise unnerves Ney infinitely more than whatever might be awaiting them in the woods.

***


	2. Theories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys theorize over what might await them in the woods. Then the trip takes a sudden downhill turn.

The drive to the trailhead Davout has marked on their map is short, and they step out of the car in great spirits. The weather is perfect, they have everything they could need for the hike, and the landscape is a pleasure to the eye.

Murat is already heading toward the woods, a spring in his step and a beaming smile on his face, while Lannes chooses his camera settings and Ney unfolds the map. 

“Come back”, Ney calls - of course they already need him to herd them, he tiredly muses.

They both turn to him with questioning faces.

Ney gestures to the map.

“Let’s plan our journey for today, guys, ” he points to the **x** he had written on his professional hiking map, based on Davout’s hand drawn map (you could trust the man to be precise to a fault). “We can probably reach our end goal in four days, see ? Following the river …”

“Yeah, fine, great,” Murat interjects, barely keeping himself from rolling his eyes, “ we don’t need that.

\- How hard can it be ?” Lannes adds. “Davout obviously wasn’t looking for it and yet he found it. And you know how he is.

\- Meticulous, ” Ney grumbles under his breath, “unlike you two.

\- No frills, to the point, ” Lannes corrects. “Can you see him aimlessly wandering in the woods just for the fun of it ?”

( _Actually, Ney can. He had heard from Aglaé how some ladies of her social circle had been surprised to find the notoriously grim man on his knees in his garden, hands in the soil, digging for weeds, or patiently drawing small birds out of the bushes… But he knows this information wouldn’t change his companions’ minds. Lannes genuinely doesn’t care, and Murat “doesn’t believe in maps anyway”, whatever that means._ )

Ney sighs.

“What do you propose ? Shall we just take off and hope for the best?”

The sarcasm is lost on them.

“Sure, ” Lannes says, tilting his head toward the entrance of the trail.

Murat is off again, singing about horses, women, and those who get to ride them - _for the love of God_ \- and Lannes soon follows him, leaving Ney to sigh once more for good measure as he refolds his poor disdained map, and sets off after the dramatic duo.

As they enthusiastically romp between the trees, Lannes gleefully joining his voice to Murat’s, Ney valiantly tries to squash his inevitable feeling of doom.

A handful of hours later they reach a peaceful creek (the one Ney has earmarked while preparing that journey, noting down every thing he could think of, trying to prevent everything that could go wrong, undoubtedly overcompensating for Murat and Lannes’ carelessness) where they settle for lunch.

Murat dutifully texts Caroline while Lannes, camera in hand, explores their surroundings, wondering sotto voce about their end goal - _what are we going to find_ , he says, and _whatever had Davout run away like that can only be something major, what do you think it is ?_ \- playing up their adventure to his imaginary audience. 

Ney, leaning his back on a rock, closes his eyes and relaxes, enjoying the birds’ trills and the sounds of the wind in the trees. It is a beautiful place, really, and so far … He mentally crosses his fingers. 

Next thing he knows is a cheery voice saying “… _and here we can spot the famously shy Ney in the wild, chilling, why yes it’s been known to happen_ ” and he blinks to see Lannes’ camera closing up on his face. Lannes hastily steps back to avoid Ney’s hand swatting at the precious object (teasing Ney is always fun, but they need the camera to have proof of their findings).

Ney stands up, grumbling; he can’t believe he let his guard down around those two.

“Enough dallying, ” he snaps.

The afternoon hours fly by.

Murat and Lannes are exchanging theories about “the Mysterious Shack”. Lannes, for some reason, is hooked on _ghosts_ and elaborates a wild and poignant murder story. Murat’s “explanations” flit around cursed gold, ancient local gods whose sacred place has been disturbed, and cryptids. The sun is going down when finally they both stop fantasizing aloud, and Lannes looks at him expectantly.

“So, what do _you_ think ?”

 _I don’t care and neither should you_.

He grumbles and shakes his head.

“I think we should set camp and shut up, least we attract vengeful gods and their zombie armies, ” he snarls.

“Aww, grumpy kitty.”

It takes all of Ney’s resilience (and his healthy respect for Caroline’s abilities) to just _ignore_ the idiot and not deck him.

When they’re all fed, watered, and tucked in their sleeping bags, Lannes and Murat fall asleep almost instantly. Ney ponders on life, friendship, and karma.

 _He’s got a bad feeling about this_.

He must have fallen asleep in spite of Lannes and Murat’s snoring (really ? a pair of _chainsaws_ ) because the next thing he is aware of is the smell of coffee and the sounds of birds singing their little hearts out.

The bad feeling hasn’t gone away during the night. Ney sighs. Hello, anxiety, my old friend…

Then the vague foreboding turns into _dread_.

Hell no. No _no_ **no**.

He can’t find the map.

***


	3. Leadership Failures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The map is gone. Blame is cast. Murat tries to play peacemaker (and wonders if Bigfoot is involved).

“YOU HAD ONE JOB, NEY,” Lannes yells, pointing the camera at Ney to record the ensuing drama. “You were _supposed_ to be our navigator. What kind of navigator LOSES HIS DAMN MAP?!”

Ney is too bewildered–and embarrassed–by this turn of events to even bother trying to defend himself. He had, indeed, had one job–his primary purpose in coming along on this silly adventure was to shepherd his two directionally-challenged friends to their destination and back. And now his only means of doing so had mysteriously vanished without a trace. But _how??_

“Well?” Lannes presses, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Ney says glumly. “I honestly don’t know what happened. I _know_ I put it in my bag last night before I went to sleep. I _triple-checked_ just to be sure!”

“Well it obviously didn’t just unzip your bag from within and walk away on its own!” 

“No, obviously it didn’t,” Ney snaps, his temper starting to fray as Lannes keeps the camera trained mercilessly on him. He’ll be damned if he’s going to let his friend put up some video blaming him for everything. _Well, turnabout is fair play_. He narrows his eyes at Lannes suspiciously. “Maybe YOU took it.”

“Why the hell would I do that? Don’t try to spin your leadership failures around on ME!”

“ _My fucking_ _ **WHAT**_ _?!”_

“GUUUUUUUYYYS COME LOOK AT ALL THESE BUTTERFLIES!” the voice of Murat calls gleefully from nearby.

Two furious faces (and the camera) turn towards their companion. 

Murat is bent over a bed of bright purple flowers near Ney’s tent, watching with rapt fascination dozens of small blue butterflies fluttering in every direction.

Ney and Lannes regard each other in a moment of stony silence, then sigh in unison before heading over to join Murat.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Murat gushes. 

“I suppose,” Lannes grudgingly concedes. Lannes has never been a fan of bugs–any kind of bugs–and butterflies are still bugs, even if they’re rather nice to look at occasionally. But he can’t help but smile as he watches Murat studying the butterflies with such childlike wonder. His anger over the map is already fading.

Now Murat is flipping excitedly through his book on plants, remarking that Caroline would LOVE these purple flowers and hopefully he can find out what they are so she can grow some back home and wouldn’t it be great if they attracted dozens of pretty little blue butterflies to the Murats’ garden YES the kids would love that so much especially Letitia who adores butterflies and by the way they make excellent pollinators and–

Turning away from Murat’s ramblings to study the immediate area, Ney’s mind wanders back to the missing map, still struggling to come to grips with what has happened. It had absolutely, indisputably been inside his bag when he’d gone to bed. He knew (his earlier, rage-fueled accusation notwithstanding) that Lannes hadn’t taken it; why would he? And Murat would never even _consider_ such a thing, even as a joke; maps are to Murat as garlic to a vampire.

“Hey, what’s this?” asks Lannes.

Ney glances back to see Lannes tugging something off of a bush near the flower bed. He holds the item–what appears to be a torn piece of cloth of some sort–up to the camera.

“Sooooooo, an interesting turn of events,” Lannes narrates. “I’ve found what looks like a bit of a torn shirt caught in this thorny bush by our campsite. It’s not very dirty, so I’m guessing it only ended up there very recently…”

“Like maybe last night?” Ney cuts in.

“Possibly,” Lannes says. “Hey… you don’t think–”

“–that whoever left this behind might be the one who took our map?”

“Ooooooh,” Murat chimes in. “An intruder? But how, surely we would’ve heard them!”

“ _Especially_ if they went into Ney’s tent, unzipped his backpack, rooted around inside it, and stole his map,” Lannes says.

“With the way you two snore? It’s _entirely_ possible,” Ney counters.

“It’s also possible that it’s a ghost,” Lannes retorts.

“Or a demon,” says Murat.

“Or a witch,” says Lannes.

“Or a bigfoot,” says Murat.

“Wearing a shirt?”

“Oh but a _ghost_ would wear one?”

“Oh shut up,” Lannes grumbles, blushing. 

“Maybe,” Ney says in a serious tone, “we should turn back the direction we came and head home.”

Lannes and Murat turn towards him, both wearing expressions of dismay.

“Just give up our quest?” Murat asks. “But why?” 

“Because without the map we have no way of knowing how to find what we’re looking for. So the deeper into the woods I lead us, the harder it’s going to be for me to lead us out in the end–IF we even manage to find the stupid shack at all!”

“Screw the damn map,” Lannes interjects. “As long as we keep heading due north, we’re going in the right direction. Davout told us roughly how far we had to go to find it, and that most of the way was along the creek. How hard can it be?”

“He’s right,” Murat says. “We can’t just give up now! Just think of what Napoleon would say.” He grimaces at the thought.

“Probably something along the lines of ’ _Thank God you exhibited common sense and kept those two fools from getting lost in the woods_ ,’” Ney says. “Anyway, if we go back now we can always have Davout draw up another map, and try again some other time.”

“Let’s take a vote,” Lannes says. “All in favor of going back now, raise your hands.”

Ney raises his hand.

“All opposed…”

Murat and Lannes raise their hands.

“That settles it then,” Lannes declares triumphantly. “Onward!”

Ney sighs, but suppresses a scathing remark about this being a fine example of how overrated democracy is.

Soon the tents are disassembled, everything is packed up, and the second day of the journey is underway.

Lannes and Murat are in high spirits, expounding upon their earlier theories as to the owner of both the shirt scrap found by their campsite, and the shack they’re searching for. Lannes launches into a local legend about a mysterious, evil old hag who haunts the woods and lures innocent hikers to their doom. Murat’s speculations begin with an unknown serial killer and continue with a lost tribe of Israelites, a clan of cannibals, or aliens.

Ney takes two extra-strength Excedrin.

While Lannes continues to elaborate on his theory about the evil old hag, Murat remembers that he hasn’t texted Caroline yet. He pulls out his phone, relieved to find that he still has service. Hopefully she isn’t too worried (or mad). He types out a quick message:

_good morning my love! everything is going great so far except ney lost the map last night somehow lmao. kiss the children for me i love u all <3<3_

Smiling, Murat tucks the phone away, pleased with himself for having remembered his duty like a good husband.

***


	4. Detective Murat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murat expounds on his theory regarding the shack and missing map. And somehow makes sense. Sort of.

In spite of the missing map, they aren’t lost yet.

Probably.

Ney breathes in and out, ruthlessly squashing his foreboding sense of disaster. The Disaster Duo is still happily prattling - _don’t they ever stop ?!_ \- and somehow Murat has now cobbled together a story of cursed Crusader gold, witches’ ghosts AND werewolves that has Lannes frowning in utter confusion. The camera is still filming, recording every single one of their wild flights of fancy.

Ney rolls his eyes.

This endless chatter weighs on his mind, and he even finds himself contemplating some of his friends’ ridiculous theories - because HOW did that map disappear - it has to have been taken away, by someone who didn’t want them to reach their goal.

But why ?

His eyes scanning the landscape spreading out all around them, Ney lists his options:

  1. _One of the two did it. It’s the most rational possibility. And Lannes is the top suspect._

  2. _Spending time with those guys has finally fried his brain, and he, Ney, is the one who got rid of the map in a fit of madness (?) which he somehow promptly erased from his memory. Horrifying. Ney immediately schedules a medical and psychological appointment, in the nearest possible future._

  3. _Someone ELSE did it._




Ney clenches his jaw.

He _knew_ he was right when he didn’t want to come.

Fucking Bonapartes and their powers of persuasion.

And those two loons are still going at it-

“…. so theoretically it’s still possible for a Bigfoot to choose not to… ”

Ney erupts.

“Murat, there is NO Bigfoot here, we’re not in America.

\- Actually it’s very likely -

\- And Bigfoots _don’t exist anyway_ , not even in America, ” Ney snaps, instantly regretting his sharp tone at the way Murat’s face falls. _Honestly_ , no grown man should be able to look like that, Ney feels like he just told a four year old that Santa Claus is a lie.

By the way Lannes scowls at him, the sentiment is shared.

They continue to walk in silence, Lannes determinedly going forward, still filming, Murat weirdly quiet behind him - Ney’s stomach twists a little at that - and himself. 

Ney doesn’t know what to offer for the silly discussion to start again.  
He glances at Lannes - eyes stonily fixed on the horizon, mouth set in disapproval- and then at Murat - looking both thoughtful and sad - and draws back. He doesn’t know how to smoothly turn things back to how they were before. He’s always been blunt. 

Ney hopes Murat’s usual optimism will have him soon bounce back - it’s just not right for him, and it’s killing Ney- when suddenly Murat stops dead in his tracks and gasps.

“Oh my God, guys, we’ve been STUPID.”

 _Who would have thought_ , Ney’s mind unhelpfully offers. What is it now ?

“Isn’t it obvious ?”

Lannes blinks at him owlishly but focuses the camera on him.

“THINK, guys !”

He’s obviously feeling much better already, Ney muses, both astounded and happy at Murat’s childlike resilience. Even if it means he’s back on his bullshit.

“What did we miss ?” he prompts, getting a beaming smile in return. 

It’s _ridiculous_ , Ney thinks with a surge of fondness, watching Murat practically vibrate with excitement and eagerness to TELL, how endearing the man can be. Just look at him now - looking like a five years old on Christmas morning- about to spout some silly theory -

“DAVOUT!” he exclaims.

Ney and Lannes gawk at him.

“It ALL MAKES SENSE!”

Lannes looks at Ney, hesitates, and asks Murat:

“Rewind, please ?

\- Okay”, Murat says obligingly. “ Who hooked us into making that trip ? Davout. Oh, he’ll deny it, and of course, he didn’t push us, because he knew how to interest us, think, Lannes, how long has he been working with us ? OBVIOUSLY he knows how to get us worked up, I mean anyone can figure it out. Who gave us the map ?

\- Davout, ” Lannes answers, a light in his eyes.

 _Oh, Hell_.

“But WHY ?” Ney grumbles.

\- Yes, WHY, “ Murat repeats with glee, ” to LURE US here.

\- Again… why ?

\- Because he doesn’t want us to know, obviously!

\- Uh ?“ 

Murat sighs, a bit disheartened at their thick-headedness.

"Oh, guys.”

He draws a deep breath, and after a quick glance around them, lowers his voice. Vaguely impressed in spite of himself, Ney gathers closer, as well as Lannes. Murat excitedly stage whispers his brilliant explanation:

“Davout is trying to lure us into his shack.” HIS shack ? Lannes looks vividly interested in discussing this, but Murat goes on.“Guys, it’s all a trap. He’s going to sl..

\- **HIS** shack ?” Ney interrupts.

\- Are you _suggesting_ … ?“ says Lannes at the same time.

” I’m not saying Davout is a serial killer, but guys, I’m not saying he’s NOT. He played us, and he played us well, I say. But he didn’t think we’d figure it out. And now he’s trying to get us here.“

Ney’s headache is back with a vengeance.

This doesn’t make _any fucking sense_.

"He took your map, Ney!”

Well. There’s always **that**.

Lannes is annoyed.

“I don’t think Davout is a serial killer, but I can’t totally ignore this.

\- Someone _took the map_ , ” Murat insists, “ and Davout cares about that kind of shit. Also, remember the thing with the German guy ? Nobody ever really knew why he was so pissed against Davout, but maybe, maybe there was something about his complaints ?”

Hmmm. 

“And remember how I asked Fouché, and he didn’t want to tell me ? I bet he’s on the case.”

Well, _fuck_. That begins to make a weird kind of sense, in spite of Murat’s convoluted, and, frankly, hare-brained ideas.

“Someone, who might be Davout, is following us. He took the map and ripped his clothes on the bushes … That makes sense,” sums up Lannes, and Murat nods wildly “ but does he want us here or not ? I’m sorry, but that part of your theory is too confusing.

\- Let’s just get back home,” Ney says tiredly but decisively.

A pause, then.

“Hell no!” Murat says, and Lannes looks equally outraged at the suggestion. _God forbid_ either of them show some sense and just forget about that whole ludicrous expedition.

“We are not quitters, ” Lannes adds pointedly, and Ney almost turns his back to them anyway. They’re such children, really. How can Louise and Caroline bear…

 **Caroline**.

Oh, _fuck it all_.

Ney bypasses them and stomps deeper into the woods, with nary a glance backwards.

“You coming or not ?” he says gruffly.

Delighted, the two fall into step.

“I have my bear spray”, Murat tells Lannes confidently.

_Well, isn’t that a comfort._

***


	5. The Haunting of Ney (by Caroline)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline is furious with Ney's unresponsiveness. Murat is lured away.

The day's hike has been uneventful. _Just like I like it_ , thinks Ney. In spite of the unaccountable disappearance of the map, he still has a pretty good idea of where they are in relation to the shack. _A couple more days' hiking should get us there._

_As long as nothing else goes wrong._

After years of misadventures with Lannes and Murat, Ney knows better by now than to rest on his laurels.

Watching out of the corner of his eye as Murat and Lannes work together to finish setting up another tent, Ney fishes his cellphone out of his pocket; he should check in with Aglaé, if he still has service.

He has seven missed calls, two voicemails, and twelve text messages.

 _All from Caroline_.

A chill runs down Ney's spine.

Maybe this hadn't been the best day to leave the phone on silent.

Cringing, he reads through the increasingly irate series of texts from Caroline, beginning with a relatively calm "Joachim says you lost the map? Is this true??" and finally culminating with a frenzied barrage of all-caps missiles such as "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU IGNORE ME NEY," "DON'T THINK I WON'T COME OUT THERE MYSELF," and assorted threats of retaliation and vengeance if anything happens to Joachim.

He decides not to listen to the two voicemails.

"Everything okay?" Murat asks cheerily. "You look a bit pale all of a sudden."

"Everything's great," Ney lies, throwing in a reassuring grin as an added bonus as he begins typing out what he hopes is an appropriately apologetic and assuaging response to Caroline. "Just letting Aglaé know that all is well."

"Oh nice! Tell her I said hi!"

"I will."

Murat goes back over to Lannes, who is piling twigs and branches together for a campfire.

Soon, dinner is served, and Murat and Lannes are discussing crop circles, yetis, the Loch Ness monster, and Davout's double-life as a serial killer. Ney eventually retreats into his tent for the night and winds down with a few riveting games of Sudoku. He struggles to fall asleep, haunted by visions of a red-eyed, machete-wielding Caroline rampaging through the forest. _Thank God for Aglaé_ , he thinks as he finally begins drifting off. _My meek, mild little cupcake._

_***_

Murat is the first one awake the next morning. Emerging from his tent, he stretches in the morning sunlight. It's a beautiful morning, the birds are chirping, the sky is blue, the air is cool, and...

... and... Murat is certain all these weird piles of stacked rocks weren't here last night. Or that big... deer skull?... lying right in the middle of their firepit. And is that a snakeskin coiled underneath it??

Murat enters Lannes's tent and shakes him awake.

"Wha... what is it?" Lannes asks groggily.

"Grab the camera. You've gotta see this."

Lannes is up and filming in no time; soon Ney joins the pair, staring down curiously at the objects on the ground.

"What the hell's all this?" Ney asks, yawning.

"A warning maybe? Look, the rock piles spell out 'GO BACK.'"

"So they do," Ney murmurs. He faces Murat and Lannes. "So, which one of you did this? I've gotta say, it's pretty clever. Solid A for effort."

Murat's jaw drops; Lannes blinks in surprise. "Wait, which one of _us_?" Lannes exclaims. "You can't be serious! I could just as easily accuse _you_ of putting all this stuff here!"

"Don't be demented, you know how I feel about this sort of childish nonsense. You and Murat are the ones so bent on making some silly horror video and getting famous on YouTube. Something like this strikes me as just a little too _convenient_."

"We had nothing to do with it!" Murat protests. "I'm the one who found it, ask Lannes! I woke him up to show him!"

Lannes shifts the camera at Murat. "It's true, you _did_ wake me up to show me... out with it, Joachim, did you set all this up? You can admit it if you did, and we can all have a good laugh..."

"I didn't!!" Murat is indignant. "Where the hell would I have gotten a deer skull and a snakeskin? You think I've just been carrying them on me this whole time?"

"Maybe," Ney grumbles. Murat has done weirder things.

"Or _maybe_ ," Lannes says, "it was the same person who took our map. Maybe we _are_ being followed. Maybe somebody _really doesn't want us to find this shack_."

Lannes and Ney continue discussing the issue while Murat wanders over and picks up the deer skull. He's never seen one up close before. Wow! _Achille would love this!_ Maybe he'll take it home.

The sight of something red lying on the forest floor by the firepit catches his attention.

A feather!

Murat stoops to retrieve it. The feather is a vibrant red, and looks fairly new; its condition is pristine. He smiles. This must be his lucky day! A deer skull for Achille, and a pretty red feather to add to his personal collection.

And then he sees another one lying a few feet away from the first. He eagerly retrieves this second feather. And look, there's a third not far from that!! This just keeps getting better and better!!!

He continues following this odd trail of pretty red feathers, harvesting them up as he goes, delightfully watching his pile grow larger and larger.

Murat gathers the last feather, holding his collection like a bouquet of previous flowers, vaguely disappointed that he doesn't see any more--before realizing that whatever beautiful, molting bird had shed them all, had inadvertently led him to something even better.

 _Mushrooms_.

***


	6. Truffle Trip (or Trap?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murat has a few too many truffles. Lannes and Ney are amused... at first.

Murat leans over his find, beaming.

Truffles!

His discovery immediately lifts his spirits. This will considerably improve their fare; Lannes especially will understand, being a fellow Occitan. Murat has so many fond memories of his childhood days finding truffles, tasting the delicious little morsels; and later, with Bessières, who simply knew _the best spots_. Murat merrily plucks some of them, and brings one to his mouth, smiling at the slight nutty taste.

 _So good_.

But as he goes to inform his friends of his lucky find, he can hear them yelling at each other - well, it’s mostly Lannes doing the yelling, to be honest, and Ney growling back at him. Murat sighs, and shrugs.

He’s just going to enjoy his bounty in peace. When they’re done with the shouting (it usually blows over quickly), they will look for him.

Maybe.

Murat smiles and brings another little truffle to his mouth.

**  
Ney sighs. Of all the ridiculous quarrels he’s had since he signed up with Napoleon (and there were _many_ ), this one might top the lot.

And, they’re _nowhere near_ any sort of rational solution.

And Lannes is _still_ going on.

 _Southerners_ , Ney wonders. Why are they like this ? Lannes and his endless well of… energy, Murat and his..

Murat.

Ney blinks, horrified.

Where the hell is Murat ?

“And another thing, ” Lannes goes on, incensed. “Ney! We’re not done!..

\- Yeah ? Well Murat _disappeared_ ,” Ney glances at his watch" and you’ve been yelling for twenty minutes already and I HAVEN’T SEEN HIM since _at least_ the moment it began!

\- _**I**_ ’ve been yelling ?“ Lannes protests, ” Oh come ON…“ before pausing.

"Murat.”

Ney and Lannes exchange worried looks.

The search is on.

***

Lannes is going out of his mind with concern. Ney and himself have been looking for what feels like _hours_ (but is more likely ten to fifteen minutes) and no sign of their friend, and there might be a _killer_ around, and Murat has _no sense of self preservation_ , and oh my God what if it’s really an angry ghost, how is he going to _get him back._..

Ney blanches at the thought of Caroline’s vengeance. The woman is fearsome in her own right, easily the scariest of the Bonaparte siblings. And he. **Lost** her husband. While she already was onto him for the Missing Map Problem. Ney anxiously scans every tree, bush and rock (you never know) for a clue. And suddenly Lannes shouts “Here!”

Ney rushes, fear twisting his guts, towards him. What if he finds a corpse, what if it’s another angry message, what if Murat has been taken by the killer, what if..

He finds Lannes leaning over a blissful looking Murat, plucking a bright red feather out of his curls, checking his pulse. His pupils are dilated. 

“Guys,” Murat informs them, “ I understand _everything_ now.”

**  
So while Ney was worrying himself sick, the idiot was getting high ? Typical.

(Ney still keeps focused - Murat _could_ have been drugged against his will. And what’s up with those red feathers ? Seems a _little too targeted._ )

Lannes spots the truffles and laughs, readying his camera.

“Oh, this is _good_.

\- YES!” Murat enthusiastically agrees. “ SO GOOD.”

This is _gold_ , Lannes thinks. Murat looks endearingly happy, and though Lannes has never seen him high before, he’s seen him drunk, and that’s honestly one of his best memories. 

“Wow, Ney,” his friend goes on.“ You’re really… really frowny and blue. Hey, hey. Hey, you know what’s great ?”

Lannes hums.

“It’s. It'sssss. Hey, Lannes, remember the nice pool ? WOAH don’t move!”

Ney freezes and Murat squints.

“Don’t crush himmm.”

_What the hell is it now._

“Crush what ?” Lannes pushes.

“The Squirrel!”

Lannes films. Ney is still anxiously screening their surroundings.

“He’s speaking to me!” an awed Murat says.

“The squirrel ?” asks Lannes, his smile stretching up to his ears.

\- Yessss.

\- What’s he saying ?

\- WOAH, woah! “ Joachim blinks. ” NEY, you’re SO LOUD.“ He blinks again, his gaze fixed around Lannes’ shoulders.

"Wow. Why didn’t you tell me about your wings ?

\- I wanted it to be a surprise!” Lannes winks, playing along.

Ney is gobsmacked.

Murat is enchanted.

“Wow nice! High five, bro!” They high five. “Ney doesn’t have wings, though.”

He seems really saddened by this.

“Nobody has wings, Murat, ” Ney calmly answers.“ You’re tripping.”

“I DO have wings, ” Murat retorts.“ I _so_ do. I’m a bird. Or, or, a horse. With wings.

\- Like a Pegasus ?” 

Murat hums his assent.

“And if you don’t open up, Ney, you will never find your wings!”

Lannes is lapping it up.

“I see yours, Joachim. Your plumage is SPECTACULAR.”

Murat beams up at him. “Thank you!!” His eyes shine. “I knew you would see them. You’re the only one… Napoleon doesn’t like it though.”

And it’s like the wind is taken out of his sails. 

“Napoleon didn’t even want me to marry Caroline, ” and the sad, wondering tone has Lannes lowering his camera. Some things are too personal to share.

Ney recoils at the information and draws back, ostensibly fishing his phone out of his pocket, whispering to Lannes ’ _Going to see what we can do about this_ ’.

Murat mournfully goes on: 

“I think he thinks I’m just another dumb pretty boy. Sometimes I think he’s jealous, but ” he heaves a hearty sigh, “ I really don’t know why.”

Oh, thinks Lannes, I really need to find a way to steer the conversation back to something more light-hearted.

“But you did marry Caroline,” he gently says, smiling at his friend, “ and he does value you; I would know! And sometimes I see him smile at you, and it’s not mocking, I swear!

\- Oh”, Murat lets out, and then he seems to lose himself in his thoughts. He blinks and eagerly tells Lannes “ Napoleon is so sad sometimes. He breaks my heart.”

 _ **Fuck**_ , Lannes thinks. This is getting really awkward.

“Nah, ” he smiles “ He’s successful and happy.”

Murat doesn’t seem convinced.

“But.

\- But what ?

\- His clothes are AWFUL.”

Lannes snorts in relief.

“True, that. Hey, what’s the worst ? Hat, coats, shoes ?

\- Pfft!” Murat blows a raspberry. “It’s all so DRAB. He needs to learn how to FASHION.

\- Well, ” Lannes keeps on, “ if anyone can teach him, it’s you. You’re the fashion guru!”

Murat perks up, and then picks one of the feathers, handing it to Lannes.

“ Here. He told me that you would understand.

\- … Who.

\- Him!” Murat gestures to an empty space behind Lannes. “ He’s right behind you.”

THE GHOST, Lannes irrationally thinks for a moment.

Then he searches his memory, and it clicks.

“The squirrel ?”

Murat nods excitedly.

Ney comes back, looking slightly relieved.

“We’re safe, guys. Nobody’s around and I’m getting signal. Murat should be high for up to three, four hours. Maybe more. I don’t know how much he took.

\- Shhh, ” says Murat. “ I’m fine. The squirrel knows about these things.

\- The fuck ?” Ney blurts out.

“Please, don’t question it,” Lannes whispers.

“ Yeah, don’t!” Murat scowls. “It hurts his feelings.”

Ney’s face is utterly blank for a moment. Then-

“Okay, "he says, with a very gentle voice. He sits beside him, the morning is lost anyway. "How is he great ?” 

Murat beams at him.

“He’s really cool and worldly! He knows” - he frowns- “poli, polsh. Polishish!

\- Ah yeah, ” giggles Lannes, camera rolling again.“ Polishish. Did he teach you that ?

\- YES.

\- Ask him if he knows Poniatowski!”

Ney rolls his eyes skywards. _Children_.

“ SZYTZENCZYNK WIENISKCZY.”

Ney sighs.

“He says yes, ” Murat confirms.

\- And what’s his name ?“ Lannes is milking this for all it’s worth.

\- Zbigniew.”

Ah, a real, actual name, Lannes knows that much.

“What are his favorite colors ?

\- WZYNIAKCZYSK”.

Ney’s phone bips. Ney blanches when he sees Caroline’s number _(Where is Joachim and why isn’t he replying to me!_ \- _Fine_ ,’ he texts back, dying inside thinking just how fucked he is -“ _Everything is great_ ”).

As Lannes keeps on, delighting in Murat’s gibberish, Ney swears he can feel Caroline’s distrust. He’s going to need to be more convincing.

“ _Miło mi cię poznać_ ”, Murat tells the Squirrel, and Lannes is intrigued. That sounds more like actual Polish - for what he knows.“ _I to by było na tyle, jeśli chodzi o miły wieczór_.”

 _Isn’t he full of surprises_ , Lannes muses.

He has barely opened his mouth to ask him more about it that Murat’s phone rings; and to Ney and Lannes’ horror, Murat is faster than them.

“Heeeyyyy!” he answers.

Ney feels his grave open under his feet.

***


	7. Trying to Drive Us Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get an unexpected phone call. Lannes and Ney speculate over who lured Murat away and why.

_I’m dead_ , Ney thinks. _Murat is high as a fucking kite, and Caroline is about to know it._ He braces himself to hear the irate voice of Murat’s wife shrieking through the phone once the realization dawns.

“ALEEEEEEX!!!” Murat cries.

Ney raises an eyebrow. _Berthier?_

“Hello Joachim,” Berthier says. Murat has turned the phone on speaker so the others can hear. 

“Heeyyyyyy!” Murat says. “We’re still on our adventure! It’s _so beautiful out here Alex,_ you’d love it. Hey I know… YOU SHOULD COME JOIN US!!!”

“Er, I’m uh, I’m afraid that isn’t possible,” Berthier replies, and Ney can’t help but detect a trace of nervousness in his voice. “Actually, um, the reason I’m calling is… well, the three of you need to come home. At once.”

“Wait, what?” Lannes breaks in, and to Ney’s utter lack of surprise he’s been filming this entire conversation so far. “Come home? Why?”

“Because…” Berthier pauses. The three friends stare at the phone in impatient confusion. “Because, well, Napoleon says you have to. It’s, um, quite urgent, he says.”

Murat is crestfallen. “Napoleon never lets us have any fun,” he mutters.

Lannes is suspicious. “But _why_? Did he at least say what it is that’s allegedly so damn _urgent_?”

“You know he doesn’t always tell me everything,” Berthier snaps. “All I know is the three of you need to return immediately.”

“Wait… wait a minute,” Murat’s eyes narrow at the phone. “ _Did Davout put you up to this???_ ”

Ney sighs.

“Davout?” Berthier sounds baffled. “Don’t be absurd! What does Davout have to do with anything?”

“He drew the map we were using,” Lannes says.

“And then he stole it in the night! Like a common criminal,” says Murat, visibly fuming. “He’s _hiding something_ out here, Alex. Something… _bad_.”

“Really, I think you three are–” Berthier tries to interrupt, but Murat cuts him off.

“TELL NAPOLEON WE’RE NOT LEAVING UNTIL WE GET TO TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS.” He ends the call. 

“Was that really necessary?” Ney asks dryly. 

“Maybe he’s in on it too,” Murat says. “Maybe he and Davout are… collab… collu… working together. A serial killer tag team.”

“And _maybe_ you need to get some rest until the effects of those truffles wear off,” Ney says.

“You want to make camp now?” Lannes asks. “It’s still pretty early.”

“What good is it going to do to keep going on with Murat in this state? Besides, if he gets into any more trouble, Caroline will have my head on a pike.”

Lannes cringes. “Right. I’ll uh, I’ll go gather some firewood.”

Ney begins setting up the tents, watching Murat out of the corner of his eye. He’d momentarily considered asking him to help with the tent set-up, then thought better of it. In Murat’s current state of befuddlement, he’d probably just end up maiming himself somehow, and then Caroline really _would_ murder Ney. Instead, Murat is sitting, cross-legged, next to a small bed of purple forest flowers, his expression almost dreamlike as he gathers his carefully selected flowers into a small pile at his feet. 

Knowing a golden opportunity when he sees one, Ney snaps a quick picture of the scene and texts it to Caroline with the message: “Taking a quick break on the trail; thought you might like this. ;)”

 _Hopefully that will do the trick_. 

***

Lannes returns to the campsite bearing an armful of gathered wood, to find three tents set up and Murat curled into a ball on the ground, sleeping serenely, a crown of purple flowers on his head. 

Lannes quirks an eyebrow at Ney, who merely smiles and shrugs.

“Well, let’s let him nap for a bit. It’s for the best,” Lannes says.

Soon, he and Ney are toasting marshmallows over a fire, talking quietly. 

“Any of this seem strange to you?” Lannes asks. Ney notices Lannes isn’t recording at the moment. His friend is unusually somber.

“You mean the rock piles in front of our tents this morning?” 

“Not just those. Which, by the way, I had nothing to do with, whether you want to believe it or not.”

Ney sighs. “I believe you. But what else though?”

“Murat finds a bunch of red feathers, which just happen to lead him to truffles? It’s too… deliberate. Like he was lured.”

“I thought the feathers were a bit too convenient myself,” Ney admits. “But why lure him there? And who could it have been?”

“The same reason someone stole our map, and spelled out ‘GO AWAY’ with the rocks. They’re trying to drive us off. Someone doesn’t want us to find that shack. As to the _who_ … well, there’s the mystery.”

“You don’t subscribe to Murat’s theory about it being Davout then?”

Lannes shrugs. “Who knows? I mean, he’s one of the only ones who knows our destination. He _did_ draw the map, and now that same map is gone. So I don’t think Joachim’s wrong to be suspicious. But I don’t want to jump to conclusions just yet. At any rate, we need to be on our guard. What we know for certain is that _someone_ is aware of our presence _and_ our destination, and they clearly don’t want us getting there. And there’s no telling how far they might go to keep us from doing so.”

“Right.” Ney hesitates. “But you still think we should keep going?”

“It’s probably not the wisest course,” Lannes says with a grin. “But at the same time, maybe Murat is right about this person hiding something _bad_ out in that shack. Why else would they want us to stay away? Why did Davout flee from the scene when he first found it? If we turned back now, I know it’d drive me crazy wondering what it is once we got back home.”

“Agreed.”

They sit in silence for awhile. As dusk falls, Murat finally wakes up, stretching out on the ground like a giant cat.

“Good evening,” Lannes says. “Have a nice nap?” 

“Yeah," Murat says with a yawn. "Why are there flowers on my head?”

“Because you put them there,” Ney replies, suppressing a smile. “Before you fell asleep.”

“… Oh. I uh, I don’t really remember,” Murat says, blushing. “This whole morning’s kind of a blur, actually…”

“Probably for the best.”

Murat groggily joins the other two over in front of the fire. Within minutes, Lannes has made him a fresh s'more. The smell of toasted marshmallows, melted chocolate, and graham crackers is making Murat’s mouth water. Aside from the truffles, he hasn’t eaten anything all day.

He’s about to take the first bite when the piercing scream of a little girl cuts through the quiet dusk like a scythe. 

***


	8. Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murat is unnerved by the sound of a familiar scream in the woods; the Trifecta are soon forced to confront a horrifying reality.

Murat nearly bolts out of his skin. Lannes, concerned, sees his face blanch and a mixture of horror, anger, and pain wash over his features.

"Hey, what are..." Ney begins, but already Murat is running.

Lannes is instantly after him.

 _Fuck_ , but Murat is fast, Lannes curses as he almost trips on a root, losing precious seconds. Behind them, he can hear Ney rushing to join them. 

Murat is running like Lannes _never_ saw him run, storming into the woods, intently scanning every square inch of nature on his way on to where the scream came from. His face is - well, Lannes is happy to be among his friends. Whoever put that look on Joachim's usually pleasant face is not going to meet a nice end. And Lannes will help dig their grave.

He finally joins his friend, seizing his arm - noting with alarm how panicked the man looks. 

"Joachim!" he bellows, eventually throwing his arms around his furious companion and not allowing him to move anymore. (It's not easy, Lannes huffs, calming down a spooked Murat. Lannes feels a little like he's trying to pacify a great wild beast.)

"Murat, hey, hey", he soothes, "It's me, it's Jean, do you feel me ?"

Murat shakes in his arms.

A distraught Ney joins them in the woods.

"Murat, hey", Lannes keeps on, softly but firmly, "can you feel my hands on you ?"

A nod. 

Lannes breathes in and out, keeping his hold tight.

"I'm here with you, I'm your friend."

Another nod.

Murat's hand brushes his own.

"Can you tell us what spooked you so bad ?" Lannes gently asks. Ney watches worriedly, letting Lannes work his magic.

"Letitia."

Ney blinks, and Lannes repeats.

"Letitia ?"

Murat's whole body shakes.

"She screamed. My baby. Letitia."

Ney winces and Lannes keeps holding onto Murat.

"Letitia is safe at home, with her mom. You know your Caroline would never let anything bad happen to your children."

Murat still looks awful.

"It was her scream, Jean," he states. " _It was her_. I would know her voice anywhere, anytime. It was my little girl screaming in terror. I must help her!"

"We're going back to the camp", Lannes declares. "And call Caroline at once. And if..."

Another scream splits the night and this time Lannes is the one feeling his legs give out under him.

That's _his_ child.

Ney faithfully runs back with them to the camp, following the hair rising sound of a little Lannes screaming in terror.

Murat's long legs cover a lot of terrain but Lannes is the first back to the camp.

Ney almost mows him down when the man stops short.

The three friends still at once. Horrified.

There is someone after them alright. 

Someone hostile.

 _A bear could have ripped into the camp and slashed their tents open_ , Ney tells himself, not quite believing it. 

"Guys", says Murat's anguished voice. He's kneeling on the ground, picking up a bundle of little stick figures. Four little stick figures.

He looks heatbroken.

Lannes promptly looks in front of his tent, and he too finds the eerie little package. Five little stick figures stare back at him.

Ney knew that trip was a _bad_ idea. A very bad idea. _The worst_.

He searches in front of his tent.

He finds four little stick figures.

_What sick kind of bear would have done that ?_

The men stay there, suspended in time, for a few seconds of heavy silence. Then Murat shakes himself out of the horror-stricken state and determinedly stalks toward his bag and his cell phone.

Ney heaves himself from the ground and follows suit.

Murat is turning his belongings upside down, and Lannes lets out a streak of words so obscene it's Prussian blue.

Ney feels like a stone is grinding down his stomach.

His hands fly over his bag, reaching deep, turning everything upside down, but he _already_ knows he's not going to find what he's looking for.

None of them are going to find anything.

 **Bloody Hell**.

There's someone after them.

Someone who _really_ doesn't wish them well.

Lannes yells out his anger into the night.

Birds fly off.

They're alone.

The night wraps itself around them like a shroud.


	9. The Best Defense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tired of being hunted by their mysterious stalker, Ney, Murat, and Lannes decide it's time to take the fight to the enemy.

"Must you really?" Ney scowls as Lannes starts filming their shredded tents and ransacked bags.

"Yes," Lannes snaps, glaring through the lens. "If we _are_ about to be murdered out here--and that's starting to seem increasingly likely--we may as well try to film as much evidence as possible first. It could be useful for a future police investigation." But his voice has a slight quiver to it that belies the bravado of his tone. The sound of the screaming child--a child that had sounded far too much like one of his own--is clearly still in the back of his mind.

Ney sighs. As if their pursuer wouldn't just destroy any footage after he... _you know what, nevermind_. At least the task is keeping Lannes distracted.

Poor Murat, on the other hand...

Ney gives his a worried glance at his friend, still kneeling dejectedly in the dirt, cupping the four little stick figures, his expression full of dread.

"My babies..."

"Joachim..."

"Someone's trying to hurt my sweet, innocent babies..." He gives Ney a ragged look, and even in the thickening darkness Ney can see the tears welling in Murat's eyes.

"It's going to be all right," Ney says feebly. He's not really sure it will be, but what else can he say?

"We need to go home," Murat murmurs. "We angered someone... or _something_... coming out here. Davout warned us to stay away. We wondered why he'd run away from the shack when he found it... his presence must've upset this... this _being_... too."

Ney doesn't respond. Murat is right, they _should_ go home, but how? Between the disappearance of the map and now their phones, he can't be more than vaguely certain of their location now; and wandering aimlessly in the dark would likely do nothing but get them even more lost.

 _And whoever is following us knows we're here._ _He might even be watching us right this moment_.

Unlike Murat (and probably Lannes), Ney still isn't willing to concede that their pursuer might be a non-human entity. His _real_ concern--and one he doesn't yet feel like voicing aloud--is that they might have _multiple_ pursuers.

"We should fight," Lannes growls.

Ney and Murat both turn towards him with raised eyebrows.

"Fight? How?"

"I don't know, exactly, but maybe we need to come up with a plan to hunt this sick bastard down. What would our wives say if they saw us cowering in the woods from some lunatic stealing our stuff and leaving behind piles of stones and stick figures? It's shameful! And what is this guy hiding out here anyway, that he's trying to drive us off like this? What is he up to? We need to find out. We need to find out... what those screams were. I don't necessarily think _our_ kids are in danger," he gives Murat a sympathetic look, "but somebody else's might be."

"Yeah," Murat agrees. "You may be right."

"He _is_ right," Ney says, rifling through his bag. "Napoleon has always taught us that the best defense is a good offense. Murat, grab your flashlight. We all need to fan out around the campsite and look for any tracks that this villain might've left behind."

"YEAH DO YOU HEAR THAT OUT THERE, WHOEVER YOU ARE?" Lannes yells into the night, sweeping the light of his camera out into the trees. "WE'RE COMING FOR _YOU_ NOW. YOU FUCKED WITH THE WRONG ONES."

Ney can already feel the change in the morale of the group as the three men disperse to investigate the area. Even Murat, so worn down and dispirited moments ago, now seems driven by a new burst of energy and resolve. Ney had to give it to Lannes. _This is what we needed_.

The search begins. Every inch of ground in the immediate area is thoroughly combed. The only sounds for the next several minutes are those of the three men's booted feet crunching over the forest floor. Ney shines his flashlight into the trees from time to time, looking for odd shapes, signs of movement, or even the reflection of deer eyes. He sees nothing; yet someone or something else is here with them, he can _feel_ it. But where--

"I found something!" Murat exclaims.

Ney and Lannes hurry over. Murat is unfolding a piece of paper."What is it?" asks Lannes, camera pointed at Murat.

"Looks like... a letter," Murat says, shining his light on it and squinting down at the text. "This handwriting looks awfully familiar..."

"What does it say?" Ney peers over his shoulder.

"' _My beloved Giuseppa, it has been far too long since I held you in my arms, too long since we last enjoyed the--"_

Ney is aware of nothing but a sudden blur out of the corner of his eye before something barrels into him from behind, sending him crashing over Murat and toppling Murat in turn.

"What the fuck?!" he hears Lannes exclaim, the light of the camera darting frantically about.

"There he goes!" Murat cries, pointing. "And he took the letter!"

"AFTER HIM!" roars Ney, getting to his feet and pulling Murat up with him.

Lannes is already hurtling forward in hot pursuit. Ney and Murat follow close behind; neither had picked up their fallen flashlights, so Lannes' camera light is their sole source of illumination now in the dark woods. Ahead of them, the mysterious figure seems to be in a frenzied state, crashing through the trees and underbrush in no apparent direction as he tries desperately to escape.

 _Well, he isn't getting away_. Ney is tired, but the anger he feels towards their unknown stalker after days of undeserved torment drives him on, just as he knows it is propelling Murat and Lannes. The latter is shouting curses and threats at the shadowy figure as the chase continues. But Murat hasn't uttered a word since the beginning of the pursuit. _A bad sign_ , Ney thinks, _for our quarry, once we catch him_. Murat is steadily gaining ground on the figure. Whoever the person is, Ney knows his chances of outlasting an angry and indefatigable Murat are near nonexistent.

The light of Lannes' camera suddenly plunges to the ground at the same time that Ney hear him fall, landing hard with a loud crash and cry of pain. Murat, startled, stops to help his fallen friend.

"Goddamn it," Lannes growls. "Tripped again... on a fucking _root_... my ankle... Ney! Don't let him get away! Take the camera so you have a light!"

Ney grimly picks up the device and hurries on. He can see the shadowy figure--who, oddly, seems to have stopped to see what had happened--begin running off through the trees once more. Ney dashes on, but the figure's momentary head-start has allowed him to gained some considerable distance.

And then suddenly... silence.

Ney stops dead in his tracks. He shines the camera light out before him, dumbfounded. He holds his breath for a moment, listening for even the faintest sounds to indicate where the figure might be. But he only hears a faint rustling from the direction in which he had left Lannes and Murat; they must be catching up. Surely the mysterious figure can't have just disappeared? No, it isn't possible. This was no ghost, it was a man, Ney knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt. It was a physical presence that had smashed into him and Murat earlier, not an apparition. _He_ has _to be hiding around here somewhere._

"You know you're only making this harder on yourself," Ney says grimly. "Come out now, and let's end this... practical joke, or whatever foolishness you think you've been pulling on us for the past few days. We're all very forgiving men..." He pauses, wondering if it actually _would_ be possible to keep Murat and Lannes from beating the hapless fool senseless. But, it never hurt to try to negotiate. "If you stop running and tell us who you are and what this has all been about, everything will be fine. If you make us keep chasing you... it probably won't be."

He hears the sound of two measured footsteps from the trees in front of him. The figure emerges from behind a thick tree, slowly and cautiously. Clad all in black, his face is covered by a ghastly rubber clown mask. _Oh God. Lannes will go into convulsions._ The man's fear of clowns is on par with Ney's fear of heights. _Or Murat's fear of maps_.

Ney isn't sure what the man's intentions are. _What if he tries to attack me?_ He has Lannes' camera, but nothing else, and no way of knowing what the man might be carrying himself.

The masked man takes a couple more cautious steps towards Ney, almost as if he remains undecided as to his own intentions. Ney is ready for anything, whether it be a peaceful surrender, a fight, or a further pursuit. So far the man hasn't said a word.

"Well?" Ney is getting impatient. "Who are you? Take off the mask and show yourself."

The figure remains immobile. There is a sudden rustling from the trees beside him.

Murat suddenly springs out of the trees, wielding a large piece of fallen timber, his expression murderous.

"WAIT--" Ney cries, but it's already too late. Murat swings the makeshift club like a medieval knight; there is a sickening thud as the wood strikes the masked man's head. He crumples to the ground.

Murat stands over the man's prone body in cold triumph.

"That was for my children."

Lannes is hobbling over, hampered by his sprained ankle. He crouches and starts turning over the limp body.

"So who is the son of a--OH GOD" he recoils at the sight of the grotesque clown mask. Ney bites his lip.

"It's just a mask," Murat says, eyeing his friend.

"Just take it off of him, please just, I can't look at it," Lannes shrinks back behind Ney, who can barely hide his amusement.

"All right, let's see what we've got here," Murat mutters. He yanks the rubber mask over the man's head.

All three friends gasp in unison.

"No..." says Lannes.

"How..." says Murat.

Ney just stares in utter stupefaction.

" _Berthier_."


	10. The Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baffled by the identity of their mysterious stalker, a furious (and confused) Lannes, Ney, and Murat, try to find his motives.

_Berthier ?_

Berthier. It was **Berthier** all along. _Berthier_ was the one terrorizing and pursuing them for several days and nights. Berthier, stealing their map, slashing their tents, leaving out these creepy little stick figures for them to find, and just, WHY ?

Ney's mind goes utterly blank.

Lannes hobbles towards Murat, who nudges Berthier's limp body with the tip of his boot. The scowl on his face is a study in contrasts: bewilderment, disgust, disbelief, and horror ebbing and flowing in rapid turn.

"Maybe I shouldn't have hit him so hard," Joachim mumbles, somewhat dizzily. 

"Screw that, " Lannes petulantly retorts. " He deserved it after what he put us through!" His hand grabs Murat's arm, and the gesture stabilizes him, lessening the pressure on his ankle and drawing his mind out of the mire of confusion where his two friends apparently still steep. Murat blinks, unable to detach his gaze from Berthier's comatose face - and Lannes knows him enough to guess he's still feeling guilty, even though he shouldn't, the silly goose.

Ney... Ney looks utterly lost, and for the first time Jean feels a little sorry for the way they dragged him into this. 

Not for too long, though, as the inert mass that is Berthier stirs. Lannes forgets about his aching ankle to draw himself up to his full height, waving off Murat's concerned glance. Since Berthier is coming to, he will have to _explain_ himself, and Lannes figures they're entitled to feeling a little vengeful - so he can't show any weakness. Ney and Murat will just have to support him on that point. They were attacked together, they will have their revenge together!

Ney comes closer, stunned, and wondering when he's ever going to wake up from this weird nightmare. Maybe it was all an elaborate prank ? 

Mild-mannered, gentle Berthier must have an excellent reason for his inexplicable actions of the last few days. Why on earth would such a sensible, efficient person, engage in such disconcerting behavior ? Why would he act in such a hostile way toward his friends ? Was he really just trying to deter them from the shack ? 

What is it about that shack, anyway ? ( _Maybe Murat and Lannes were right to wonder about it; some of their conjectures don't sound so far-fetched anymore_ ).

Berthier's eyes flutter open, and Lannes almost throws himself into the fray before his ankle sharply reminds him of his current limitations. Murat steps closer to him, his strong frame a welcome support.

Ney crouches down and gently, but firmly, takes a hold of Berthier's shoulders, settling him against his torso. Berthier still seems too disorientated to flee right away, but the man has always been resilient, and lately seems to have developped unexpected skills, so, better be cautious. Berthier blinks, his gaze unfocused, and Lannes feels Murat's body tense up again under his fingers. 

"What..." His voice is feeble, but his eyes get clearer by the second.

"Hello, Alex, " Ney says pleasantly. " Do you know who we are ?"

Berthier winces. "Ah, my friends. I'm afraid this is all a terrible misunderstanding, really.

\- I'm all ears, " Lannes purrs.

Berthier fidgets. Murat and Lannes slowly get closer while Ney's hands pull their prey up a little straighter. Lannes' grin is pretty unsettling, especially when combined with the crude light of the camera in the night.

"I'm sorry, " Berthier says, and Murat and Lannes crouch down to his level. Surrounded, pinned by Ney's arms, he blanches. Lannes pats his knee consolingly. Berthier gulps.

"We know, " Lannes says. " But what are you sorry for ? Giving us hell or getting caught ?"

No answer. Lannes studies him intently. 

"What's in the shack ?" Murat asks.

Berthier clams up like an oyster. Ney's hold gets imperceptibly tighter, and Lannes grins again.

"What's in the shack, Alex, dear friend ?" Ney softly inquires.

No answer. 

Under the light of the camera, the three friends observe with a newfound fascination the workings of Berthier's throat, the paleness of his cheeks, and the terror and stubborn determination warring in his expression.

"Oh, Alex, " Lannes whispers, and, suddenly, he stops smiling.

"Nevermind," he announces. "If he can't find the words, our dear friend Alex will simply lead us to the shack."

Murat nods while Ney observes with interest just how pale someone can turn in a moment. 

"We have a rope, I believe," he asks his companions. Lannes grins again, and Berthier looks about to faint.

"What a stroke of luck, " Lannes declares. "I always carry it on me." And to Murat's amazement and Ney's reluctant respect, he actually pulls out of the pocket of his jacket a decent length of rope. 

"No, wait, please, " Berthier begs, but Murat suddenly starts and cuts him off.

_"You made me think my baby was in danger."_

The low, threatening growl makes everyone stop. Their usually smiling, happy, good-humoured friend is nowhere to be found. All that's left is a stormy-faced, resolute, upset father; Lannes inwardly winces and hurriedly halts his friend's leap towards the hapless Berthier. Ney scowls down at his prisoner; really, this is morally questionable.

" _Mine_ , too!" Lannes vehemently adds. Ticked off for good, he gives Murat the rope, and a disturbingly cold-faced Joachim crouches besides Berthier. Ney obligingly pushes and pulls as Joachim ties Berthier up, tight and secure; as Murat gets up and steps back with a black look, Ney none too gently pulls him up to his feet.

"Please, I'm so sorry, don't do this, I can explain!" 

But neither Lannes, nor Murat, nor Ney, are ready to hear Berthier now. He has stalled for too long and they are too upset with him.

"Oh, you better be hiding something _worthwhile_ , " Jean spits out with indignation. 

Berthier throws a desperate, pleading look to Ney, who hesitates for a microsecond.

"He _stole the map_!" Murat exclaims.

"You stole the map and schemed all those creepy set ups to get us to leave the forest," Ney calmly says, and Berthier hangs his head in shame.

"You slashed our tents ?!" Lannes seethes.

"You stole our phones and now our families are probably _worried sick_!" Murat rails, and he almost carries on with a " _You lured me away! (With feathers!)_ " but thankfully manages to keep his embarrassment to himself. 

Lannes lets out a sardonic laugh: "Oh man, I don't envy you. Did you ever meet Caroline?"

Berthier and Ney both wince. They are definitely not eager to see her reaction. The smile creeping on Murat's face under the wan light of the camera is one none of them ever saw before. Ney distantly notes it's quite in tone with the creepy settings of Berthier's little scheme. (This is the _last time_ he gets along with Lannes and Murat's plans, he swears. Those two - and now, apparently, Berthier too! You can't trust anyone anymore! - will drive him crazy. He needs his quiet. Just himself, the boys and Aglaé, his flute, maybe a dog, and nature. None of these _insane_ shenanigans). 

Berthier is the very image of desolation as Ney pushes him forward into the woods. 

Only their steps and the hooting of an owl break the heavy silence of the night.

Berthier's heart is leaping out of his chest as they draw closer to the shack. 

Murat is the first to catch sight of it, a little on their left, cleverly hidden in a natural hollow, amidst the dense foliage of half a dozen trees.

"Who will do the honors ?"


	11. A Sanctuary Profaned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lannes, Ney, and Murat finally unravel the secrets of the mysterious shack; but not everybody is satisfied in the aftermath.

Berthier stands immobile before the door of the shack, as if rooted to the earth.

Murat gives him an annoyed look, shaking his head. "Fine, I'll do it myself," he grumbles. He puts his hand on the doorknob and attempts to turn it, but it doesn't budge.

He scowls at Berthier. "You keep it locked?"

"But of course," Berthier replies, obviously surprised that Murat would even ask such a question.

"Where is the key?" Lannes asks.

"In my jacket. I can give it to you... if you untie me."

The three look at each other uncertainly.

"I won't run away," Berthier insists. "You have my word."

"If you try to run away," Murat says grimly, "I will tell Caroline about _everything_ you've put us through."

Berthier pales in the remorseless light of Lannes' camera. He nods silently.

Ney begins undoing the ropes, and a moment later Berthier is freed. Sighing, he reaches into his jacket and pulls out... not the key, but a checkbook.

"My friends," he says with nervous hesitation, "perhaps... perhaps we can make some... arrangement... I'm prepared to be generous..."

"Not a chance," Lannes snaps.

"How generous?" asks Murat.

Ney glares at Murat. "Surely not generous enough to make you forget about Letitia's screams ringing into the night."

Murat glares at Berthier. "No, nevermind. By the way," he frowns, "how _did_ you do that?"

"Youtube clips," Berthier gulps.

"Wait, you used my FAMILY VIDEOS?" Murat is livid. He remembers the video in particular--of little Letitia screaming while being chased by a wooden cutlass-wielding Achille and Lucien at Achille's last birthday party.

"AND MINE TOO?" Lannes nearly drops the camera in his rage.

"I didn't mean any harm!" Berthier insists. "I knew the three of you were planning to come out here, so I devised... deterrents. Anything I could think of that might make you withdraw."

"What the _hell_ are you hiding in this decrepit little shitbox then?" Lannes snarls. "Open it up already and let's get on with this. No more stalling, open the goddamned door!"

Berthier gives one last pleading look at Ney, whom he clearly regards as the Voice of Reason of the three. Raising his eyebrows, Ney tips his head expectantly at the door.

Berthier sighs again, defeated. He pulls out a ring of keys, unlocks the door, and turns the handle.

Lannes goes in first, illuminating the room with his camera.

"What... the... _fuck_?"

Murat and Ney follow.

They follow the light of Lannes' camera as it pans around the room.

Berthier stands in the doorway, looking at the floor, waiting for the inevitable slew of questions and accusations that must follow the ongoing, dumbfounded silence.

The three turn to face him in near perfect unison. All three expressions contain--in varying quantities--surprise, bewilderment, and amusement.

Then Ney notices a lamp. "Does this work?"

"Yes," Berthier croaks.

Ney flips the switch. The lamp emits a sultry red light.

"Yikes," says Lannes. "A bit tacky but, er," his eyes dart across the room to a heart-shaped, red velvet loveseat in the corner, "I guess that uh, I guess that fits the overall, uh, tone."

The room is sparsely furnished. Aside from the lamp, lamp-stand, and loveseat, there is a small table in the center of the room, with a cushioned, ornate wooden chair. On the center of the table--which, Lannes notices, has been kept polished to a shine--stands a gilt-framed portrait, on each side of which is positioned an unlit, white votive candle (the wicks of which are black). In the corner of the room, adjacent to the loveseat, sits a padlocked antique wooden chest. The room smells of lavender.

"Who's this?" Murat reaches for the portrait.

Berthier gasps audibly as Murat's hand grips the gilt frame and raises the portrait from the table. He regards Murat, Lannes thinks, the way a priest beholds a man committing an act of sacrilege. Ney is watching Berthier closely, clearly worried that the normally mild-mannered administrator might make an irrational lunge for Murat any second.

"She's very pretty" Murat says approvingly. "Why does she look so familiar? But I can't quite place her... Do either of you recognize her?" He points the portrait towards Lannes' camera, to Berthier's visible mortification.

"My God," Lannes says, "isn't she Francesco Visconti's wife?"

Ney and Murat turn towards Berthier.

"... Yes," Berthier reluctantly conceded. "Yes, she is. Her name is Giuseppina."

"Alex..." Murat looks mystified. "Are you... _in love_?"

Berthier in love! Napoleon's tireless, stoic, right-hand man; a workaholic who, at times, seemed more machine than human. Lannes gapes. It hardly seems fathomable.

"Yes," Berthier admits wearily. "For quite some time now, I'm afraid."

"Wait," a wide-eyed Murat interjects, "so is this your, um... love shack?"

Ney bites his lip.

"It isn't like that!" Berthier protests indignantly. "She's never even been here. She doesn't even know about this place!"

" _Yet_ ," says Lannes ominously.

"Then what _do_ you do here?" Ney asks.

"I come here to... to contemplate her. To look at her. To think of her, without anything or anyone to distract me."

"So it's more of a love _shrine_ then," Murat grins.

"Please put her portrait back," Berthier pleads.

Shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter, Murat obligingly resets the portrait, making a great show of placing it as precisely between the votive candles as possible, adjusting and readjusting.

"What's in the chest?" Ney asks.

"Nothing," Berthier says quickly.

"Then why keep it locked?" Lannes presses.

"Surely you've seen enough by now," Berthier says, beads of sweat visible once more on his pale forehead. "You have the video you came out here to get. Can't we just--"

"I'm sorry, were you under the impression that we were even now?" Lannes snaps. "That everything you put us through over the past few days is forgiven, just because you let us in here?"

"But--"

" _Open the chest_ ," Ney orders in a tone that brooks no further dissent.

His expression as grim as Death, Berthier pulls his keyring out once more, finds the correct key, and opens the padlock. Lifting the lid of the chest, he steps back, staring at the floor.

Ney, Murat, and Lannes step towards the chest simultaneously, peering down together.

"Our stolen stuff!" Lannes exclaims. "The map! Our phones!" He reaches down and grabs the items in question, passing them back to their appropriate owners.

"That's great, but what's... that _other_ stuff? What _is_ this?" Murat reaches down into the chest and pulls out a silk scarf, a woolen sock, and a hairbrush.

"Is this stuff _hers_?" Murat asks. "Are you keeping them like... like _relics_?"

"Poor woman," says Ney. "Imagine how vexed she must've been over that missing sock."

Berthier looks as if he wants to crawl under the floorboards.

"Oh, is that a scrapbook?" asks Lannes, peering again into the chest.

"Please don't," Berthier begs.

"Alright, alright," Ney takes a conciliatory tone. "There's no need to bother with that. I think we _have_ seen quite enough. The question is, what now?"

"Surely you'll be content to leave now?" Berthier says, and the normally indefatigable man suddenly looks more exhausted than the three have ever seen him. "Now that my humiliation is complete."

"It's not complete yet," Lannes says. "Not until I publish our video." And with that, he finally turns the camera off.

"Oh God, just wait until Napoleon sees," Murat cackles. But his grin abruptly vanishes. "Caroline, on the other hand, won't be nearly as amused by everything you put us through."

"Mmm," Ney nods. "Nor will Aglaé. Or Louise, I'd imagine."

"She certainly will not," Lannes affirms. "Though I'd be even more curious as to how Madame Visconti herself will react."

"Please!" Berthier cries. "I'll do anything, _anything!_ What will it take for you not to publish it?"

The three stand silently for a moment, pondering, while Berthier continues to sweat. It is Murat who finally breaks the silence, eyes narrowing, a touch of slyness in his voice.

"You mentioned earlier," he begins smoothly, "a willingness to be generous."

"I did," Berthier's voice is barely a whisper.

Murat takes long strides towards the velvet loveseat, his booted feet echoing on the floorboards. He plops down on the cushion, smirking as Berthier seems to bristle at this apparent act of sacrilege.

"Well for starters," Murat continues, "I've been meaning to buy Letitia a pony."

***

***One Week Later***

"I think we can agree that something isn't adding up," Caroline says.

" _None_ of it adds up," Aglaé replies.

"Jean insists they found nothing unusual out there," says Louise. "But he won't let me watch the videos he took--I think he's hidden the camera, I can't find it anywhere. He says he won't be publishing the video after all. When I ask him why, he says ' _Just because._ ' Oh, and there's another thing," and now she hesitates. "But you must promise me it won't leave this room."

"We promise," Caroline and Aglaé say at the same time.

"He insists on sleeping with the curtains open now. If the room gets too dark he gets very... unsettled."

"Michel hasn't been normal since returning either," Aglaé says. "In fact, he just booked a week-long stay-- _by himself_ \--at a spa resort in the mountains. He says he _just needs time to himself_ and he doesn't want to talk about it. I have no idea where he got the money for such a trip, he just vaguely tells me he's been _saving_."

"Joachim has been having nightmares every night since the boys came back four days ago," Caroline says. "When I ask him what happened he just blurts some nonsense about how he had a great time and everything is fine, just fine," Caroline rolls her eyes. She loves Joachim to death but the man can't tell a convincing lie to save his life. "But he has this hollow look in his eyes sometimes, when he thinks I'm not watching. Like he's remembering something _awful_. And he's been spoiling Letitia rotten for some reason, he barely lets her out of his sight, and starts to fret if he goes more than an hour without seeing her."

"Didn't he just buy her a pony?" Aglaé asks.

"Yes! I was worried he was cutting into our annual cruise fund, but he claims Napoleon gave him a bonus at work recently."

"And did he?" Louise asks, eyes narrowing; if Joachim got one, Jean damn well better be getting one soon too.

Caroline had, of course, asked Napoleon about it (did Joachim think she wouldnt?). "Don't be absurd," her older brother had scoffed. "Why would I give that fool yet another bonus? Lannes' wife would strangle me in my sleep."

"No," Caroline replies.

"So," says Aglaé, "how are we going to get to the bottom of this? Must we venture out there ourselves to unravel this mystery?"

"Not at all," says Caroline. "Leave it to me."

"What are you going to do?" asks Louise.

Caroline smiles thinly.

"The less you know, the better."

***

***The Next Morning***

It is seven in the morning and Larrey's phone is ringing. Either someone has died, or...

...he glances at the screen to see the identity of the caller...

"For God's sake," he groans. Heaving a deep sigh, he answers the call.

"Lannes," Larrey begins tightly, "why on _earth_ are you calling me this early? If you aren't in mortal peril I swear to--"

"DOC," Lannes' voice is frantic. "Someone broke into my house!"

Larrey's eyes widen. "Wait, what?"

"I don't know how they did it, but someone came in through one of the upstairs windows! They would've had to climb the damn tree to do it!"

"Well are you all okay? No one is hurt?"

"We're fine, Doc, but Louise is very badly shaken!"

"What did the thief take?"

"That's what's so strange, Doc. The only thing missing is... my video camera. Whoever it was completely ransacked my office, but my computer and all my other stuff is still there. Only the camera is gone."

"Very odd indeed," Larrey says. "But why call me? You should be calling the police!"

"Oh I already did," Lannes says. "I just, I just needed to tell you about it too."

Larrey sighs.

***

***Five Days Later***

Relief washes over Berthier as he approaches his shack--his sanctuary. It has been a strenuous week, trying to be normal at work around Murat (who wouldn't meet his eyes), Ney (who regarded him with the deepest pity), and Lannes (who glared at him every time they encountered each other). (Not to mention Napoleon, who was becoming increasingly irritated at the refusal of any of them to tell him what was going on.)

It had cost him an exorbitant amount of money to buy their silence. Much more than it had cost him to buy off Davout.

He had felt reasonably sure that his secret was safe for the time being, but a new complication had arisen a few days ago. Lannes had accused him of breaking into his house and stealing his video camera!

And, truthfully, the idea _had_ crossed Berthier's mind. Securing those videos would surely be the best way to protect himself in the aftermath of this debacle, this _invasion_ of his privacy.

 _But it's too late now_. Someone else--some mysterious third party--now had the power to make him the laughingstock of the corporation. What if they showed it to _Napoleon_? The thought had kept Berthier awake for the past three nights.

He decided to escape to the shack for the weekend, to find solace and strength before the portrait of the woman he loved, whom he hoped would love him someday in turn.

His breath catches, he freezes in place suddenly, just feet from the doorway. What if... what if _she_ sees the video? What if this... this malignant being who had absconded with Lannes' footage, decides to publish it himself?

_Who can it be? Fouché?_

A strange sight tears him from his increasingly frantic thoughts.

The door to the shack is slightly ajar.

Berthier's blood runs cold.

He had locked it behind him before accompanying Murat, Lannes, and Ney back through the forest. He _knows_ he locked it.

 _Someone else has been here_.

 _...What if they're still here?_ _What if they're inside right now?_

Unarmed except for his keys, he has never felt so vulnerable. Gripping one of the keys like a knife, he steps forward and slowly pushes the door in.

"Hello?" he calls through the half-open door. "Is anyone here?"

Silence.

He waits for a sound, any sound, even that of a frightened animal scampering out.

But there is nothing.

He lets out a shaky sigh, and steps through the door, leaving it hanging open behind him. Scanning the room, his relief is renewed; nothing seems to be missing or disordered.

"Oh, thank God," he exhales.

"Oh I wouldn't thank him just yet," a familiar female voice replies from behind him, followed by the sound of the door being closed. Startled, Berthier turns.

"Caroline!"

Her gray-blue eyes, so like her brother's, yet icier right now than Berthier has ever seen Napoleon's on their iciest days, stare straight into his soul.

"Hello, Alex," Caroline says, her voice disturbingly soft and sweet. "I think you and I need to have a little talk. About _these._ "

She holds up a handful of small red feathers.

Berthier shudders.

It's going to be a very long--and a very, _very_ expensive--day.

*****END*****


End file.
